The words “long” and “awaited” are much overused, but in The Who’s case, 23 years between albums probably qualifies as something of a record. Now down to just Pete Townshend and Roger Daltrey, with Zak Starkey on drums and Pino Palladino on bass, it is a remarkable case of rock and roll survival if nothing else. This surprisingly decent comeback is pretty much a game of two halves – one part is classic Who with all the hallmarks in place, including monumental Townsend riffs, dense melodic textures and anthemic Daltrey vocals. The other is virtually a solo Townshend album with highly personal lyrics set to sparse arrangements.
With a keyboard loop clearly inspired by ‘Baba O’Riley’, the opener ‘Fragments’ is a typical Who mid-tempo rocker with Daltrey in fine voice and Townshend’s power chords punctuating a strong melody. Changing tack, the acoustic folk of ‘Man In A Purple Dress’ has been described as a barely-disguised Townshend riposte to his detractors during his recent computer troubles. Certainly, he’s rarely written words as angry as: “How dare you be the ones to assess me in this godforsaken mess”. ‘The Mike Post Theme’ is more classic Who fare complete with a ‘Who Are You’ style chorus, ‘Black Widow Eyes’ could’ve been lifted from Tommy, while the mandolin-grounded ‘Two Thousand Years’ sounds on a par with the mood on Who By Numbers. There are some strange twists along the way; as on the piano and acoustic guitar dominated ballad ‘In The Ether’ where Daltrey affects a Tom Waits vocal pastiche. The rocker ‘It’s Not Enough’ sees Daltrey’s strongest vocal performance, while yet another highlight is Townsend’s plaintive love song, ‘You Stand By Me’.
The latter half of the album is, gulp, a rock opera in the grand tradition of Tommy and Quadrophenia, with short pieces such as ‘Pick Up The Peace’, ‘We Got A Hit’ and ‘Mirror Mirror’ standing out on initial listenings. The final track ‘Tea & Theatre’ is the least characteristically Who sounding song here but one of the strongest, with the pair seemingly contemplating their autumn years. “We did it all didn’t we?/Jumped every wall instinctively,” Daltrey sings, over a metronomic drum beat with more than a hint of nostalgia and sadness in his voice. If it turns out to be their recorded swansong, it’s a graceful bow out.